The World's Greatest Liar
by emeralddusk
Summary: Hi, I'm Cat Valentine, and I'm the world's greatest liar. It's nothing to be proud of, but that's how my life is.


Cat Valentine:

The World's Greatest Liar

Hi, I'm Catarina Valentine. I'm seventeen years old, and I'm the world's greatest liar. It's a silly title, but it's true. That's my best talent; telling lies. It's not like I'm proud of it, and I don't hurt or cheat people with it. The thing is, I make everyone think I'm happy, innocent, loved and in love with the world. None of that is true, though. I mean, I love my friends, my family...but I know it's a bad world. :(

I started telling lies in kindergarten (which is kind of bad, because that's like the main rule you have to follow at that age). I didn't do it to be bad...I actually did it to be a better person. It didn't work. When Mrs. Williams asked me how my weekend was, I smiled my cute little innocent smile, gently shook my pigtails back and forth, and lied, my eyes planted to the colorful blue carpet. "It was really fun," I lied. "My mommy and I played games, and she showed me how to put my hair in pigtails, and she sang me a song to help me fall asleep one night. Yeah, it was a really good weekend." Every single thing I said was a lie; Mom was gone most of the time, so I had to play checkers and Monopoly all by myself. I saw one of my friends putting her hair in pigtails, and I learned how by watching her. Finally, I couldn't fall asleep; that was happening alot at that time, so I started singing lullabies and nursery rhymes to myself. Now I do that every night I want to sleep. :,(

A couple of weeks later, I told another big lie; one of the mean boys pushed me and took my toy car; it was a pink Barbie Mobile that I got for my fourth birthday. When my teacher asked me how I got a cut on my knee, and why I was crying, I stared at the wound, and said I fell down and lost my favorite toy. She held me, kissed my boo boo, and told me she and some of the aids would find it, but I knew they never would. Then, on the last day of school, my friends asked me how I felt, if I was looking forward to summer. I told them how happy I was (or how I wished I could be), how much fun I wasn't going to have (and I told the story so it sounded like I had the whole world coming to me for free), and that I wasn't heartbroken about leaving the only people who care about me. That night, I cried alone, singing "You Are my Sunshine" over and over. Every time the song didn't put me to sleep, I cried, then I rolled over, closed my eyes, and started lying to myself. _I'm going to be happy...Mommy's going to love me, play with me, like me. I'm going to sleep tonight, I'm going to have a nice summer, and I'm going to see my friends._ Hot, burning tears filled my little eyes, and stuck to my pillow.

I sing alot. I sing because it helps me forget I'm alone. I've gotten pretty good at it, and I think that's why I got in to Hollywood Arts. I like it there; I have alot of friends, we have fun, and I got the nickname "Cat" because my name is Catarina, because I love cats, and because of a face I make when I yawn (I look like a kitten, they say). Jade's my best buddy, and when she's not around, Tori is. We love each other, but Tori and Jade fight alot. I tell them it doesn't bother me; that people fight sometimes. I hold back tears when I say that. During lunch, I go into the girl's bathroom all alone, close myself in a stall, put my hair in pigtails, and say my mom insisted on doing it, even though I've outgrown that kind of stuff. When I get home, I cry over that. The school always asks me if I'm having problems at home, and I always lie to them; "No," I happily answer, acting like their concerns were out of the blue. Then, I smile and giggle about something else.

Jade asked me if something was wrong. I said I was fine, that I was having fun. This made me cry..because now, I can lie to my friends and family while looking them right in the eye. Jade hugs me, tells me she loves me like a sister, and that, deep down, she knows the truth. I tell her I'm fine again, but she doesn't say anything; just smiles and hugs me. Tori came up to me, said I seem upset, and that she's worried about me, and then asked if I was okay. I lie to her, saying my allergies are acting up; I'm not crying. Everyone thinks I'm a ditzy, happy-go-lucky little sweetheart who never outgrew her infantile ways. I think I like it better that way. Lying hurts, but I keep doing it.

When I lie, my Mommy's sweet, nice, caring, and gentle with me. When I lie, I have a happy life, and I'm a happy little girl. When I lie, people think happy thoughts about me. When I lie...life's not the horrible little thing it really is.


End file.
